Labels
by Vanille Strawberry
Summary: Santana just wasn't sure who she was, where she stood, or where her allegiance lay. Post Regionals. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **Glee is not mine. Like, duh.

A/N: First fic as a 16 year old! Totally huge milestone. I'm pretty sure I started writing when I was like ten or something. Bad ten year old writing ... _shiver_.

Anywhozel, this is mostly a look into Santana's character with Brittana of course. I really wanted to give her actions justification and I think I did an all right job. I'll let you be the judge of that.

enjoy.

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-Labels-

Santana's father was a Latino through and trough. He made Spanish omelettes and tacos for lunch, cursed loudly in Spanish when he hurt himself trying to assemble their new garden shed, and had the short temper of a man who had grown up with four other Lopez boys. Her mother however, was a French woman plucked from Avignon in the South who had come to America to kick-start her International Translator career forward.

In all, there were always three languages at home battling for dominance. It's only logical that Santana would start using them all from an early age. The only language she never learned to speak before the age of twelve was Dutch- even though her mother has a degree in it and her best friend just happens to live it everyday.

But, even though it's all kinds of awesome to be able to swear in French, Santana had a kind of identity crisis going on. Her Papi is Latino and her Maman is French. She was clear on that. Those were facts. But that makes her half of each and then there's the ambiguity of being an American citizen, which tore her in three ways. Santana just wasn't sure who she was, where she stood, or where her allegiance lay.

Then in first grade, she met Brittany White; a Dutch girl whose only connection to the States was her proud American grandfather, originally from Lima, who had moved his whole family to Rotterdam and then moved them back again when his teenage daughter became pregnant.

Santana and Brittany quickly became best friends. Brittany was dreamy and vacant but just the right amount to make Santana giggle and forget her problems. Her friend smiled like the sun and was always happy to see her, and soon Santana found herself learning a few lessons from the blonde that had nothing to do with school. Brittany's mind was like a vacuum that sucked up all the information she needed and spit out the parts she didn't. Santana understood that but the teachers and other kids didn't and it's a fight Brittany struggles against everyday, even now. Santana vowed to herself to always be at her friend's side to help her win this battle.

Therefore … that tears her into another piece.

Santana became ferociously protective of Brittany and her younger sister. Kids in their class learned quickly that picking on the Dutch family did not get them anything more than a bloodied lip and a cast if they were unlucky. Santana was suspended more than once but the charges were always relaxed because it was usually in defence of another student. Brittany's mother always hugged her close when she saw her and murmured that she was part of the family and that she was so glad Brittany found such a worthy friend.

Seven year old Santana figured that made her a little Dutch. And her loyalty shifted once more and again, she wasn't quite sure who the hell she was.

A few years later, their middle school had an International day and they urged all the kids who had different cultures to bring in things to highlight their countries and stuff. Brittany brought in a bouquet of blood red tulips in a vase that resembled a tiny windmill. Her mother also baked cookies (an old Dutch recipe) on one of her days off from college. Santana didn't have any idea what to bring in so she told the teacher she forgot. She looked away from her best friend's inquisitive gaze across the way- Brittany was being swamped by pre-teens with a sweet tooth- because the blonde most definitely knew when Santana lied.

Truth was she has no idea what she should have brought in. A beret? Tacos? She wasn't even able to admit to herself that she was torn- she didn't want everyone else getting the same idea. She had a reputation to uphold after all and being different in Lima Ohio never got you far in life.

When they hit high school and entered the mainstream of colourful kids that Santana found she could submerge herself into, things were all right for a while. Brittany was having a ball and a few weeks in she had them try out for this Cheerio's thing. Santana wasn't too pushed on the idea (the Coach was fuckin' off her trolley) but she went along with it because it was a new experience and Maman told her to seize them whenever she had the opportunity.

The Head Cheerleader had put on the music and asked them to try some moves. Brittany had stepped out hopefully with the large first grade smile she had never outgrown. Santana had grinned when her best friend had started. She had blown everyone out of the water with her turns and twists, her tumbles, her leaps and her awesome imitation of a robot that had the Senior Cheerio's giggling and giving her approving smiles.

Santana's tryout was subdued and less fancy than Brittany's, but it got the job done and she saw Brittany give her the thumbs up. She's still glad to this day that the blonde taught her some dance moves in middle school.

They made the squad along with a shy girl they had befriended afterwards. Quinn Fabray, who's father had been transferred to the Ohio branch of his business. Santana didn't pay too much attention to Quinn, and mostly tolerated her because of Brittany who declared she wanted to be her friend.

They rose through the ranks of the social pyramid quickly. Who would have thought a cheerleading squad named after a breakfast cereal held so much power among the school peers? It was as if the uniform was a sign of superiority and it demanded to be respected. Santana had to admit it was easy to forget who you were (or who you thought you were) when you wore it. It was like a release that she embraced so tightly it almost hurt.

She got stuck in deep with the whole cheerleading-bitch act. She slept around because that's what it meant to be a Cheerio- you had to up your reputation and tend to it. It was a full time job that both she and Brittany had taken on board with resigned indifference. However, the moment they stepped out of the school grounds, she became her parents little girl who grinned like sunshine and laughed and helped old people cross the street. Though she was a little girl plagued with identity issued that only evaporated when she put on the Cheerio uniform and returned to school.

The unresolved issued she battled with had not lessened with time as she had hoped they would. Now more than ever she wondered who she was in the world. Her Papi still called her his little 'princesa' and Maman still talked to her in nothing but French around the house and only shifted to English when they had visitors or she forgot. And now when she hung out at Brittany's house the White's spoke in nothing but Dutch that Santana was startled to find she could sort of, more-than-she-would-ever-admit understand.

The summer after freshman year, Santana will always remember it, she and Brittany had convinced their parents into letting them drive out of town into the countryside for some R&R away from crowds and the pressures of high school. They drove the hour out of town until Santana parked her Maman's car in a roadside country motel car park they decided to spend the night in. Brittany rang their parents to make sure that it was all right first of course.

They decided to have a picnic amidst the lolling hills of the Lima scenery. Santana had spread their blanket under a shady tree, Brittany had put out all their food, and they had pigged out, giggling about Sylvester's reaction if she could see them now. Then, groggy and sleepy after their meal, Santana had laid down and Brittany had curled up into her side, their skins warming from the sun's pleasant rays.

"S?" Brittany had murmured contentedly into the silence.

"Hmm?"

"This is nice, isn't it? The two of us together like this." The blonde had shifted closer to make her point.

Santana had felt a sudden lump rise in her throat, one she could not explain, and she'd bit her lip as she put an arm around Brittany's shoulders securely. "Yeah. It is."

"Do you ever wish we could always be like this?"

Santana had frowned. "What do you mean, B?"

Brittany's chin moved to rest on her friend's chest and suddenly they were nose to nose, looking at each other. Santana's breath had hitched and she'd said nothing, watching Brittany nervously.

"If I tell you, will you get mad at me?" Brittany's bottom lip had trembled.

"Of course not, Brittany," Santana had whispered raggedly. She had moved the hand at her side to run softly through Brittany's hair softly to ease the girl's worries.

"Okay." The blonde had taken a slow breath. "I think I love you, San. But, more than usual. I just thought maybe we could be together." Brittany whimpered, "Don't be mad at me."

Santana had smiled softly and looked at her best friend earnestly in the eyes. There had always been something there between them she knew, but she hadn't thought in her wildest dreams that either of them would address it for what it really was; love. The kind of love her parents felt for each other, the kind of love movies tried to imitate. Brittany accepted her entirely- all the little Santana pieces no one knew and she tried to cover up. Santana loved Brittany for that and so much more.

Of course, that was another thing that had fucked up her identity crisis. Santana Lopez could not be gay on top of all her other labels. That was much too much shit for anyone to handle. But Brittany had looked at her then, hopeful and saturated with adoration, and maybe it was the way the sun had hit her, or the scenery- or whatever.

Santana Lopez had thrown caution to the wind and kissed her best friend, Brittany White.

Sophomore year in high school was a huge year for Santana and Brittany. There was so much drama it almost made Santana's head spin. Quinn getting pregnant, she and Brittany trying to keep up appearances while secretly hooking up, joining Glee, Sue Sylvester going completely _bonkers_.

If there was one thing that sophomore had taught her it was that the people in Glee had so many labels. Dorks, dweebs, RuPaul, Man hands, Gay kid, Fag, Prego, Jockstrap, Asian, Other Asian, cripple. That had been her understanding of all these kids. But slowly, through trial and error and bonding and destruction, she'd come to know these people. The labels disappeared and she saw Tina, Mike, Matt, Finn, Puck, Quinn, Artie, Kurt, Mercedes and even Rachel, for the people they truly were.

But, still, she couldn't apply that to herself. The thought was terrifying to even fathom. Brittany still encouraged her to break away from the Cheerio's and integrate a little more amongst the Glee kids, but that was one thing Santana did not have the strength to do.

That summer Brittany had decided she was going to make them come out as a couple even if it killed her. Santana had tried everything to dissuade her but in the end she came to a very important revelation.

"Santana, you can't be scared of who you are. You're still all you. You're still my San; the girl who can make jocks wet themselves. This is just a tiny piece of that person that I want people to discover-" Brittany had been forced to stop talking because her girlfriend had very gratefully thrown herself at her.

Therefore, they had called up the whole Glee club to hang out at the park.

"A huge group picnic by the ducks!" Brittany had shrieked down the phone, temporarily deafening her girlfriend.

Everyone bar Artie had come, as he was off visiting his aunt and uncle in Tennessee. When the first of their friends had arrived, Santana had quickly gone into a panic as Rachel and Finn had walked up to her hand in hand with large smiles.

"You look good out of uniform, Santana," Rachel had told her hesitantly, fearing a sharp rebuke.

But none came. They were after all outside of school and Santana had always made a point of keeping herself and her school persona separate. "Thanks, Rachel. Oh, you brought pie."

Finn smiled uncertainly and handed the pie over to Santana with his large fumbling hands. "Um, yeah. Quinn rang Rachel and said she was bringing ice cream so … pie's good with that," he finished lamely.

"Yeah. I'm sure it'll be great." They stood there, in the middle of the park, awkwardly. Then Santana pointed towards Brittany near the pond. "You should say hi to Britt. She's really excited about this. I'll just take this pie over to the picnic blanket."

Rachel and Finn nodded and walked off to greet Brittany. Santana couldn't help but smile softly when she heard Rachel, who hadn't yet mastered the art of _quiet _talking, declare, "Santana's lovely outside of the school environment. I much prefer her like this."

When everyone arrived, it was as if they had been friends for years. They gossiped and chatted, eating on the picnic blanket Brittany had laid under a tree closest to the pond. Shelby had handed Beth to Quinn for the day, so the baby went around the group like a hot potato before ending up in her father's arms.

"She's going to be a heartbreaker this one," Puck announced with a proud grin. "The boys will be trailing after her and Daddy will cut off their balls and hang 'em up as trophies won't he, honey?" He kissed his daughters cheek.

Brittany aw'ed at Santana's side. Everyone else made a face at the mental image.

Kurt grimaced, "Lovely."

The boys broke away to play some football, leaving the girls and Kurt to chat or feed the ducks. Rachel was in the middle of a long story about how she had spent a few weeks at her grandmother's in Montreal. She kept pausing however, which everyone found odd, and after her fifth pause, Quinn groaned.

"Why do you keep stopping?"

Rachel shook her head and shrugged. "It's just … I keep waiting for Santana to make a rude comment but … she's just listening. To _me_. It's just weird."

Santana blushed hotly under the scrutiny of the girls as they agreed with Rachel.

"Yeah, it is strange," Mercedes said with narrowed eyes. "I'm suspicious."

"You're never this nice," Quinn added as she bobbed her daughter softly in her arms.

Santana sighed and was saved by Brittany and Tina coming up to the group after their feeding of the ducks. One look at the group had the blonde frowning and plonking herself protectively at her girlfriend's side.

"Okay, what gives?" Kurt demanded. "What's gotten into you, Santana?"

"Nothing!" she defended. "I just- what the hell is the matter? I'm being nice and I'm listening to Rachel. What did I do wrong?"

Brittany giggled and Santana shot her a murderous glare. Tina sat by Mercedes and cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you think we should tell them, S?" Brittany asked softly as she took Santana's hand in hers and intertwined their fingers.

Santana shrugged and pouted moodily.

"You see guys," Brittany started and everyone inched forward, "Santana and I are dating. We have been for a while but she was too stupid to say anything. She's scared. She acts like this big tough meanie but she's really a soft fluffy marshmallow." Brittany kissed her girlfriends temple and the pout quirked into a small smile.

"We had our doubts," Kurt deadpanned. Santana sighed heavily.

"Yeah, well she's scared of being labelled. 'Cause she's got so many already. She wanted to stay popular and not different because it gave her one huge label that covered up all the others."

Rachel crossed her arms in thought. "This is actually making sense, Brittany."

"Thanks!"

Santana cut in quickly before her girlfriend could, "I have an identity crisis."

"Huh?" Mercedes and Quinn shared a look.

So Santana told them about her pieces. How once piece of her was French, the other Latina, the other American, an other Dutch, another Glee, Cheerio, bitch, slut, badass, tough, cruel, popular and finally the pieces no one knew about. Her nice one, her being gay one, a protective one, and all the others. She told them a condensed version of her fears and how she wished she wasn't so different.

Finally, she stopped and noticed for the first time that the boys had rejoined them and that she was crying and Brittany was holding onto her tightly. "Who am I?" she whispered desperately.

The Glee kids were looking at her so sympathetically that she just completely broke down and for once, the real Santana was shinning through. The girl who was so insecure about herself.

Rachel was the first person to move forward and hug her. The others followed suit and Santana sobbed with renewed vigour into their embraces as Brittany, eyes red and voice raw, led them all in a soft lullaby.

"_Birds fly over the rainbow, why then oh why can't I …"_

Santana figured that this was the first step in accepting who she was and putting all those little pieces of herself back together. She was a half Latina, half French, honorary gay Dutch who had various labels that only skimmed who she truly was as a person.

And deep down she knew she had the Glee club and Brittany to thank for releasing her from this prison she had built for herself.

"I love you, Britt," she whispered before kissing her girlfriend. She grinned when it was repeated to her. Then she turned and said the same thing to her friends, "I love you, guys."

And they looked at her. Her. Not Cheerio Santana the bitch in charge. Just Santana the girl who grinned like sunshine and laughed and was content with who she was. And the guys grumbled it back because they were too manly to say it aloud, while the girls said it firmly and with conviction.

"We love you too, Santana."

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A/N: I despise labels. End of rant.


End file.
